False alarm, charger is still working! The blog lives on.
Just to reassure you, although we're only 20km from today's eruption at Mt Ontake, we're not involved! And Masan's friend, who runs a refuge there, is alive...
Masan told me, when I arrived here 10 days ago, that every day would be different and boy has that been true. The one fixed element is my before-breakfast toilet/bathroom/scullery clean. Thereafter...
Today, after breakfast, we drove to a neighbour to pick up three hens that were being replaced owing to their lack of productivity. We would then kill them (yes, we're not strict vegans!) and eat them tonight. Things got a little complicated when it turned out that one of the hens had laid the night before: which one? Masan tried to determine, by feeling in their lower abdomen to see whether any eggs were "in the pipeline". More detail than you need, dear reader? Anyway, as things panned out he probably made the wrong choice - one of the two we killed was later found to have four... Aieee...
But I'm running ahead. Before the slaughtering Masan took me, with Fuku, to a local gorge that is a favourite place for him to pray, be with himself and nature, give thanks - and play his flute. Masan found it amusing that Fuku had chosen to wear flip flops, knowing the terrain. But had allowed her to discover the consequences by herself, yet another example of his hands-off, experiential parenting style. He commented on the power of water to wash away negativity, and how he felt it was good for Fuku simply to be there, to feel that quality. Looking around at the waterfalls, rocks, trees, stony-bedded stream, I was struck by how classic Japanese garden design takes its inspiration from the dominant landscape type. In the same way could one view English gardens as miniatures of the pastoral English landscape? Perhaps not - ours reflects our travel-botanising history.
At the entrance to the gorge was a shrine and Masan explained, and I copied, the bowing and clapping etiquette, that Fuku is beginning to learn, aged three. It's so completely simple and free of baggage, and everyone in Japan does it; a way to connect with oneself and the 8 million Shinto gods, and give thanks - or set a wish or intention. As we walked up the three-arch staircase we spent a few minutes pulling out weeds, being careful to stay to one side of the stairway, to allow the gods passage.
Yet again I found myself wishing I'd grown up in a culture where people are united in their spiritual life, and have strong local traditions and community spirit. I think of our local wood at Vaulnaveys, and the vodka-bottle-littering local lads. It isn't quite the same. But the practice of saying Thank you, many times a day, for people and experiences, and food... at the risk of it ringing empty through mechanically applying, there's nothing stopping any of us...
We paused at the daily farmers' market on the way home. I was expecting to see photogenic piles of exotic veg, but government legislation forces a high level of packaging. The result is an anaemic-looking cellophane-enclosed affair. Though I was impressed to see one large mushroom retailing at 10,000¥ (50 quid).
We were then all involved for a good part of the day in the chicken-killing and preparation process. I wasn't sure I wanted to seize the opportunity of killing a bird. And when I saw the way Dai-chan struggled to hold the bird still and slice into its throat I decided the second bird would suffer less without my involvement.
Both birds were put upside down in a box, to drain the blood. A little while afterwards Masan plunged them briefly into below-boiling water and we rushed to pluck them. That was the easy part. The skilled bit, which I managed to get out of, was disembowelling them. A really delicate operation that got me wondering to what extent it is mechanised in the UK. What a job, if it's done by hand. I've just Googled to see the score but, too quickly, found myself on a site about hygiene standards. I doubt we are complying so I decided not to look any further, or scare myself to death!
My role came at the point when the birds were gutted and cleaned: jointing, then cutting the meat from the bone. I've never attempted this with raw meat and it was bloomin' tricky. I did a real botch job, the first time so far that I've felt a lack of enthusiasm for a task.
As I watch the sun set from the window near my bed space I envy Dai-chan, here for an extended period to learn the good life. What can I take back...
The good news, for tonight, is that our guest left this morning, earlier than anticipated. I had heard him talking twenty to the dozen last night so wasn't surprised when Masan commented that he sometimes receives visits from "such a person", who is more interested in himself than in Masan and what's happening here, and who quickly thinks he's got the place sussed without being here enough to really feel it. It makes me want to relish every single minute if have in this precious place.
And, yet another lovely moment today: Fuku understanding my "Pass me the water, please", pouring me a glass, seeing that I had quickly drunken it and refilling my glass, in so doing giving me the most heartwarming smile. Remember, she is 3 years old! I haven't written much about the children because it is a slightly difficult area, the linguistic barrier slowing down the bonding. But at one moment today I had both Kanta and Fuku sitting on my knees as we watched the others working on the chickens. I was happy to be a simple "chair".
Later, at supper, chewing hard on the toughest chicken I've ever tasted, I admit the day's experience impacted on my appetite. It's no surprise to have Masan confirm what I already knew: in the past the slaughtering of animals was an occupation reserved for the lowest caste. Tomorrow I'm promised chicken curry. ????
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